The Night of Many Dates
by 50penny
Summary: In which Emma is forced to go on a date with every eligible man in Storybrooke in one night because of her current lack of enthusiasm in picking a love interest herself.
1. 1 - The Proposition

**A/N: Okay, I'll be upfront; this is my first fanfiction. The idea for this came while watching Star Trek and realizing that Emma and Thor are Kirk's parents. That really doesn't have anything to do with this story, but it just made me frustrated about Emma's lack of a love life. So... yeah. Somehow that turned into this.**

On a cold and spooky night, Emma woke with a start to the sound of a grandfather clock's chime. "That's odd," she thought. "I know my room has never been seen by human eyes before, but, judging by how few things I actually brought to Storybrooke, I don't think I even have an alarm clock."

She got up to close her window when the fire in the fireplace suddenly went out. "Okay, now I know that there is no way that there was a fireplace in my room. What is going on?"

A cold breeze whispered through the wind. A faint voice called out, "Emmmmmaaaaa Swaaaannnnn!"

Emma, now thoroughly creeped out, cried, "Gah! What do you want?"

At that moment, Graham's ghost popped up out of nowhere on the foot of Emma's bed. "G'morning, Sunshine!" He smirked at the look of utter shock on Emma's face.

"Graham? But, you… you're dead!"

"As a doornail crushed to bits, but that's beside the point. I'm here about something much more important."

Graham got up and wagged his finger at her. "You've been a naughty girl, Emma Swan. You are the heroine of our story, and what fun is a heroine without some eye candy for her to have relationship drama with?"

Emma broke in, saying, "Well, I have a son to take care of, so back off!"

"Ah, yes, dear Henry. Your bonding with him was cute, but that is so last year. He's got other relatives to take care of him now, especially since Regina's entire personality seems to have changed once you broke the curse. Heck, I'm pretty sure he was safer when David was taking care of him."

Emma was at a loss for words as she considered his point.

Seeing his chance to fulfill his purpose, Graham resumed his message. "And now, as you have so failed to show interest in and acquire a decent love interest after my much-too-early demise, the Powers That Be have come up with a solution: you will go on a date tonight with every possible bachelor in this town of eligible hunks, and, by the morning, you will have to choose one such man for your love life or be resigned to a life of SwanQueen shipdom."

Emma finally snapped out of her silent horror at this and begged, "Please, _anything _but that! I'd rather walk in on my parents making babies again than suffer that fate!"

Graham nodded gravely. "A wise decision, believe me. I was Regina's kept man for long enough to know what things _that _would entail."

Looking relieved, Emma asked, "So, then, what do I actually have to do?"

"It is quite simple, really. A bit like speed dating. At the chime of each hour, you will have a date with each man selected for your choosing. You will have a five minute break at the end of each date to primp and ponder. Then, just before the sun rises, I will be back to confirm your choice, and life will continue as normal. Good luck."

Without further ado, he disappeared. Emma sat back on her bed, trying to take in all that had just happened. "Well, for my first experience with a ghost, that wasn't so bad." She glanced at the mysterious grandfather clock, horror registering on her face. "Oh, crap! I need to get dressed!"

**A/N: Yep. My brain is a fun place. Also, I didn't mean to be mean to all the SwanQueen shippers out there; I just don't think it will ever happen.**


	2. 2 - A Golden Surprise

**A/N: I really did mean to post this a lot sooner, but my brain thought it would be fun to re-traumatize myself with some Doctor Who… let's just say, there were too many feels to even try going back into humor. Whoops.**

**As for my inspiration for this chapter, I've always wondered how Emma would react to Rumple in all of his impish glory!**

Emma rushed around her room, pulling on a clean pair of jeans while frantically brushing her teeth. Sensing another presence in the room, she turned around and yelped at the sight of… well, she guessed it was a man. His skin shimmered, golden in the moonlight, and his snide grin revealed several rotten teeth.

"Who are you? I know everyone in town, and I've never seen anyone looking like you before."

The glittery man giggled. "Why, I'm Rumplestiltskin, of course. Can't you recognize a face?"

Sensing that confusion would become a familiar feeling in the hours to come, Emma asked, "Well, why do you look like that? It's really very creepy, especially with all the leather. And why are you even here? Don't you already have a girlfriend?"

Letting out a resigned sigh, Rumplestiltskin explained in a thoroughly condescending tone. "This is what I looked like back in the Enchanted Forest. And leather pants have been a staple fashion statement in that world for several hundred years. It's why all of the men are always in such great shape; if you don't look good in leather, your life really isn't worth much there. As for the whole 'girlfriend' thing, Belle has _graciously_ decided to allow me this date to appease the remaining GoldenSwan shippers, though I am surprised that there are actually any left." He looked horrified at the thought.

"You know, I think I prefer you in human form. I mean, you're still creepy as hell as Mr. Gold, but at least then you have a quiet menace. Your constant movement is giving me a headache." Emma was truly astonished by how energetic and bouncy Rumplestiltskin was being, and it made her more nervous than ever about whatever would happen on their date.

Glancing at the clock, Emma attempted to shoo him away. "Ugh, your earliness is eating into my prep time. I'm not even fully dressed yet!"

Waggling his finger at her, Rumple giggled. "You know, dearie, I used to think you were smart, but now I am reconsidering that. Why don't you just use your wonderful new skill to make yourself instantly ready?"

"New skill?"

"Your recently discovered magic. Aren't you at all curious or even interested in the fact that you possess the potential to become incredibly powerful, maybe even more so than Regina? Even if you don't want to be supremely powerful, you could at least learn how to protect yourself and your family instead of just hoping for the best."

Scrambling for a defense, Emma sputtered, "But I have to think of Henry! I mean, he doesn't like it when Regina-"

"Again with the Henry arguments. We get it, dearie; you love your boy. But _maybe_ you should learn how to keep him safe instead of wasting your time on lame side plots. And besides, you don't have the spine to do dark magic, so you're safe on that count.

"Well, since this is getting us nowhere, I'll just do the heavy lifting myself, as usual." With a snap of his fingers, Rumplestiltskin and Emma were transported to the middle of his pawnshop. Rumple was back in Mr. Gold form, looking quite schnazzy in a black suit, while Emma was wearing a Jessica Rabbit dress.

"What the hell am I wearing!?"

"Miss Swan, it is an amazing little device called a 'dress'. I know you are uncomfortable wearing something so feminine, so, as I have no idea what else we should do for a date, you will be learning how to transform that ridiculous outfit into something you are more comfortable with."

"You know, I would complain, but the idea of a sit-down dinner with you, or anything else at all traditional, horrifies me, so I'll play along. Now, what am I supposed to do?"

After listening to Gold's instructions, Emma put her entire focus on changing the dress into her usual jacket and jeans, which was rather difficult with Gold's eyes boring into her back. She lost track of time standing there, and after almost dozing off, she gave up. "I just can't do it!"

"Not with that attitude, you won't. Oh well, if you can't handle even a simple transfiguration spell, I guess I won't ever have to worry about you being a real threat. You can go ask the fairies for help when your magic spins out of control. Good luck on your next date."

With a smirk and point, Gold's figure and the shop faded, and Emma realized that she was back in her bedroom. Emma looked at the giant clock again, shocked to see that the 55 minutes really were over. "Man, I really need to invest in a watch. And get some coffee."

Mentally checking Mr. Gold off the list of possible dates this night would bring, Emma shuddered at the idea of ever choosing him and set off to physically change her clothes into something more appropriate. The red dress was hurled into the mysterious fireplace, never to be seen again.

**A/N: I really didn't know GoldenSwan was even a ship until I started reading fanfiction a few months ago. And I love Rumbelle with every beat of my fangirl heart, so this date was doomed from the start. I have no regrets :D**

**And I know, Jessica Rabbit dress, FTW. I just tried to think of the most un-Emma-like outfit possible, and that's what I came up with.**

**Last thing: Does anyone else feel disappointed with the lack of development on the show about Emma's magic? I was all pumped when the show introduced that idea, but it never really went anywhere.**


	3. 3 - Hop to It!

**A/N: Hello again! Now that the crazy part of my summer is over, I might actually be able to stay consistent with updating!**

**Truth be told, I had a hard time writing this one, but I think it worked out alright. I'm really just looking forward to writing the next two I have planned, which might explain why this one seems a bit filler-y.**

Chapter Three

Dread built as Emma awaited her next caller. She had managed to make herself look as presentable as her five minutes of primp time would allow, and she hoped the next date would be much less stressful.

A knock on her door resounded through her room. _That's odd_, she thought. She had assumed that all her dates would just magically appear in her room and violate her privacy. _Maybe this one will have more sense._

Emma opened the door. _Crap. _Standing in front of her was Archie, the human-turned-cricket-turned-human troublemaker.

"What, not what you were expecting?" Archie asked in response to the look on her face.

She shrugged, "Well, I wouldn't have thought that you'd be part of this, but you're better than Grumpy, I guess."

"Thanks for that glowing endorsement. Grumpy probably has emotional problems anyway, what with him avoiding reconciliation with his fairy ladylove," Archie replied, though the innate softness of his voice failed to convey his sarcasm. "Now, where would you like to go?"

"Wait, I have to decide? I thought you were supposed to take care of that. Well, if you really don't have a plan, I am dying for coffee."

"Sounds fine by me." And with that, they materialized in front of Granny's.

"Since when do you have magic?" Emma asked incredulously.

"As this isn't reality, I figured I could do whatever I want."

"That sounds like cheating."

"Would you have preferred to sneak out of your parents' apartment? No? Then deal with it."

Emma pouted at that, but she realized he had a point. _Maybe I should find my own place; what kind of 28-year-old still lives with her parents!?_

Getting their coffee to go, Emma and Archie walked to his office. Emma plopped down on the leather couch and asked, "Are you going to psychoanalyze me or something? Because that would be ridiculous."

Archie sat down across from her. "Well, as that is my only apparent skill, it might be quite fun."

"Yeah, what's up with that? I know that, since you're a conscience, you can't have a dark side like Snow White, but you'd think that you could be more useful. The only purpose you've served lately is to be a sign that something bad is going to happen."

Archie tried and failed to sound indignant. "I'm useful! I know I disappeared after my shocking non-death and never bothered to help my best friend try and find his son, but someone had to agree with Snow's insane idea of sentencing another world to certain death with her whole 'let's send a self-destruct device to another world so that we can live' scheme."

Emma rolled her eyes at his rationalization.

Archie continued the longest rant he'd ever had. "And if Cora hadn't faked my death and thus sent Regina on a downward spiral, Hook probably would have been stuck on his revenge scheme, and Belle wouldn't have lost her memories… oh wait, that is pretty bad, isn't it?"

As Archie trailed off and became lost in contemplation about his own existence, Emma got up. "Well, if that's all, I think I am going to pull a Lacy and ditch you. Bye!"

Emma quietly exited the building and smirked as she walked towards the sheriff's station.

But of course, escape was not that easy. Without a sound, Graham appeared before Emma, making her stumble and spill her coffee cup.

"My goodness, only two dates in and you are already trying to cheat." He crossed his arms and tsked at her.

Emma rubbed at the stain appearing on her jeans. "I'm not cheating; I'm just reinterpreting the rules. You never actually said that I had to stay for the whole date, just that I had to go on one. Well, I went with Archie to get coffee, so that is technically a date."

Seeing that he had been outmaneuvered, Graham sighed. "Alright, I'll let you out of this one. From now on, you may reject a date after twenty minutes. But then it will be your own fault if you can't find a love interest by the end of the night because you refused to give any of them a chance."

Proud of her own genius, Emma agreed to the new terms. "You know, I wouldn't have to reject them if you stepped it up and actually sent me a realistic choice. I mean, I'm pretty sure that no one ships me with Archie. He's too meek and mild-mannered for my taste; I need someone a bit more confident."

Graham's face lit up with cunning delight as inspiration struck him. "I have the perfect man in mind. Now, go and rest up; you'll need it. And don't think you can hide; each of your dates will find you at the appointed time, no matter where you are." And with a little wave, Graham disappeared.

Emma pumped her fist in victory at being able to manipulate the rules then groaned as she realized that Graham meant to get back at her with the next date. _ Oh well, it can't get worse, can it?_

She whistled as she made her way into the sheriff's station, hoping to clean up and take a nap before the next date came along to ruin her peace.

**A/N: In case you didn't notice (yeah right), Archie really is not my favorite character. I'm trying to hold out 'til August to rewatch season 2 (I hate the commercials on hulu), so I don't remember everything that happened to him this year, but I do remember being incredibly disappointed that he didn't die. I mean, if Graham can be killed off, why not him? Anyway, I'll stop ragging on him now.**

**Any guesses for which dude I'm bringing out next? I'm really excited for it!**


	4. 4 - Tea (and Paint) for Two

**A/N: I didn't have much of plan going into this one, but I've been looking forward to it, so I just wrote whatever popped into my head. I hope you enjoy my randomness!**

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_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Emma groaned as the five minute warning alarm on her phone went off. Her nap really had been quite nice; she dreamt that she found Pegasus in Storybrooke's stables and flew away from the nonsense that was her life. Too bad that the curse would have stripped him of his wings even if he had made it over.

Brushing the wishful thinking aside, Emma stretched and got up from the not-so-comfy couch in the sheriff's station. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail as she tried to mentally prepare herself for what she was sure was going to be a miserable experience. _I can do this, _she thought. _After all, Graham wouldn't be too mean… would he?_

She went to the bathroom to change out of her coffee-stained jeans. As she walked back in, she was met with the smell of freshly brewed tea. _Tea? The only men who drink tea are Gold and …_

Emma's head jerked up in realization. _Oh, please, no. _But there Jefferson stood, setting a tea tray down on her desk. Resolved to get this over with, she asked, "What do you think you are doing?"

Flashing her a ridiculous grin, Jefferson replied, "Why, I am making you tea, of course. It certainly made for a fun night the last time we saw each other."

Emma rolled her eyes and cut him off. "Yeah, because being drugged and forced to make a hat at gunpoint is _fun_."

He ignored her sarcasm and handed her a filled cup. "Don't worry, the only drug in this is caffeine. You're going to need it for what I have planned. Now, drink up, and be careful with that cup. Rumplestiltskin would kill me twice if he knew I had it."

Taking a glance at the cup, Emma realized that it was Belle's chipped cup. She quickly put the cup back on the desk, nervous to be around something so fragile. "Did the curse breaking make you crazier than ever? Gold nearly beat a man to death over this cup; he'd beat you to a pulp with his cane if he was here! Why do you even have it?"

Jefferson shrugged his shoulders. "Just a harmless bit of fun. You deserved a special tea party, and I missed my days as a daredevil."

He quickly downed his own cup before grasping Emma's hand and dragging her out the door. "What are you doing, you psycho!? Let me go!"

Jefferson abruptly turned around, and she nearly crashed into him. His invasion of her personal bubble was just as disorienting as it had been the last time. "I think the fact that I was right about the curse means that you can no longer call me crazy."

He leaned in to huskily whisper in her ear, "In fact, I may be the only one here who is actually sane."

Before she even had time to react to his proximity, he pulled back and continued dragging her outside.

Once they were in the street, Jefferson let her go and took off his coat that was clearly designed to get him into the Epic Coats Club. Turning, he gestured for her to give him her leather jacket.

Emma was not having any of that. "I don't care what you're planning; this is _my_ jacket, and there's no way I'm giving it to you."

He didn't look concerned. "On your own head be it. Fair warning, it might get destroyed, though."

Emma didn't budge; in fact, she was more concerned than ever. "What do you mean? What are we going to do?"

Jefferson reached into the bushes and pulled out two paintball guns. His excited grin was back in full force as he handed one to her. She held it uncertainly; whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this.

Smirking at her confusion, Jefferson slung his arm around Emma's shoulders and started walking them towards the docks. "Now, Emma, before you get too trigger-happy, I will explain the rules of our little game. Basically, just try to shoot me as many times as you can without falling into the water. I'll be doing the same to you, and whoever's left standing or has the least paint on them by the end of the hour will get to have one of my many, _fabulous _hats. Are you ready? GO!"

He dashed away before Emma could make much sense of what he'd said. _Well, this is close enough to my weapon of choice. Might as well go with it._

Emma ran down the pier, trying to discern where her date had gone. There were crates everywhere; she could hardly see anything despite the full moon's eerie glow. Crouching down behind a box, she peered over and took aim at what appeared to be a scarf fluttering in the wind. As she started to pull the trigger, she cried out as she felt the first paintball hit her back. She swore under her breath; it felt like someone had chucked a marble at her.

Whipping around to spot her attacker, Emma finally caught a glimpse of Jefferson and immediately shot at him without bothering to aim. She knew she must have missed when she heard Jefferson's laugh. His mistake. Emma located the source of the noise and much more accurately shot again. The laugh cut off with a sudden profanity. She surprised herself by giggling at his reaction. _Maybe this isn't _so _bad._

She was quickly removed from her reverie as two rapid shots hit her left arm. Growling a little, Emma snuck farther down the pier, drawing her assailant out. Whirling around, she shot wildly, missing him by mere inches. He, however, had much better luck, marring the front of her jacket with two green spots. She fleetingly wondered how he was so good at this but pushed the thought away to concentrate on how to force him into the water. It would be difficult to get close enough to him push him in; the only way would be to pelt him so hard and fast that he accidentally stepped off the pier. The narrowness of the pier made that unlikely, though. Emma inwardly groaned, the possibilities of success seeming slim.

Deciding that going further down the pier would be her best bet, Emma continued to play cat and mouse for several minutes, both of them getting in many good shots. Emma was scared to see what shape her jacket would be in when this was over, let alone how bruised she'd feel when the adrenaline wore off.

Finally, she reached the end of the pier. She fired off a shot, not caring if it was a hit or miss, and slowly lowered herself down off the edge, wrapping her legs around the post.

Jefferson made a few more random shots, but when the silence from Emma's end went on for too long, he grew suspicious. Carefully, slowly, he crept closer to where he thought she'd be. He stood as he reached the dock's end, deciding to taunt her. "Where are you?" he called out in a singsong voice. "You know you can't hide from me forever."

Before he could retreat from the edge, Emma's hand gripped his ankle, and she pulled him with all of her might. Jefferson lost his balance and made a huge splash as he hit the water. Emma scrambled back on the pier, thoroughly soaked. She sat with her knees drawn up, silently cursing the water for being so cold.

Jefferson hauled himself back onto the pier, shook out his hair, and gave a dramatic bow to Emma. "Well done, Emma. I suppose that means you win."

He reached down for her hand and pulled her up. "The hour is late; the end draws near. So, let's go get you that hat. I know you would be _so_ disappointed if I didn't really give it to you."

They walked back to the shore. Jefferson seemingly pulled a hat out of nowhere and placed it jauntily upon her head. "Now, don't go wandering off. Your next date will be coming soon. I'd hate for you to miss it."

With another extravagant bow, he pressed his lips to her hand, turned around, and strolled back home while whistling a merry tune. Emma could only stare. How could that man display so many personalities in less than an hour?

Emma shook her head, inadvertently making the hat fall to the ground. She sighed and picked it up. Why anyone would want a hat like that, she'd never know. Deciding to ignore Jefferson's command, she went back to the sheriff's station to change, not wanting to have to spend the next date wet and covered in paint.

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**A/N: The coat I was referring to was the one Jefferson was wearing in "The Doctor". His utter awesomeness in that ep made that ep my favorite one of the season! Seriously, we need more of the Jefferson/Rumple/Frankenstein dream team.**

**As for the whole paintball thing, I have no idea where that came from. I wanted them to actually do something, and I just thought, "I bet Jefferson would really love paintball guns."**


	5. 5 - VICTORious well, maybe not

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know, it's about bloody time I got this up. I couldn't really find inspiration for this chapter because I really freaking love this dude, and I wanted to get him right, but then that magical little teaser for Good Morning Storybrooke just killed me, and I finally got past my writer's block!**

* * *

It was times like these when Emma really hated not having a shower at work. Going in the bathroom, she pulled off her jacket and tried in vain to scrub the paint off. Giving up on her favorite article of clothing, she paused and looked in the mirror above the sink. Splotches of green and red marked her face and hair. Sighing, she fixed herself up as best she could and went back to her office.

Glancing at the clock, Emma was surprised that her next date hadn't appeared yet. Before the false hope could fully set in, though, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Dr. Whale walking in anyway.

"Dr. Whale!? Really?" Emma exclaimed, exasperated. She shook her head, abhorred by Graham's form of retribution.

Whale leaned casually against the wall, not in the least put out by her reaction. "What, am I not up to your standards? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'd fit right in with your family."

Bewildered, Emma scoffed at the idea. "Yeah, right. And if we ever had a family dinner, I would put you between Rumplestiltskin and Regina and let the three of you kill each other."

Whale rolled his eyes and smirked, walking towards Emma with a weird, little strut. "All I meant was that your parents seem to have an affinity for kissing corpses. I, on the other hand, just enjoy trying to reanimate them. I think we would work well together."

"Yeah, about that… you're a bit of a creep, and _you slept with my mother_, so I don't think _this _is going to be happening any time soon. Besides, aren't you with Ruby now or something?" Emma attempted to subtly edge away from her desk as Whale reclined against it.

"True, my obsession with physical hearts somehow translated into a cursed persona dedicated to taking and breaking metaphorical ones, _but_ my status as a womanizer prevents me from continuing my experiments, so you should be glad."

He huffed a little at her skeptical glare. "As for your other objections, I was cursed when I was with Mary Margaret, so that doesn't count, and Ruby keeps disappearing, so I don't know if we're actually supposed to be together or just be friends."

Realizing that he was losing precious date time with this pointless conversation, Whale suddenly pulled a single carnation out of his jacket and presented it to Emma. "For you."

Emma's only response was to raise her eyebrow.

"Oh, come on. What's wrong with a little tradition?" At her further nonresponse, Whale sighed. Usually he was a lot smoother with this stuff. "Alright, fine, let's just go to Granny's."

As they walked down the deserted street, Emma blocked out everything the good doctor was saying. She regretted telling Graham that she wanted someone more confident. Whale most certainly was confident, in a way similar to yet different from Hook. She shivered. Refocusing on reality, Emma became more interested in the creepy way the bushes were shaking. _It's probably just a dog. If not, I'll just let it get Whale while I run away. _Satisfied with her plan, Emma was nearly smiling by the time they reached Granny's.

Whale, once again being a gentlemanly creep, pulled out a chair for Emma and winked.

Emma began to feel that if she rolled her eyes any more this night, they were going to fall right out of her head.

Granny came up to their table, notepad in hand, and glowered at Whale. She didn't care for Whale's late-night schmoozing, either. "What'll ya have?" she practically snapped.

"Ah, yes, I'll have a scotch, please."

Emma realized that her date with Jefferson really had made her hungry. "I'll have a burger, fries, and coffee."

Now that he was actually paying attention to her face, Whale noticed the paint and asked, "So, I take it you've had some fun tonight."

It took a moment before Emma clued in on what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, being shot at is a _lot _of fun. You should try it some time."

"Trust me, I've been shot at enough to last me a lifetime. Your version just looks a lot less… deadly."

At that, Emma realized that she didn't really know much about Dr. Whale. Of course, she had seen Frankenstein movies, but they weren't exactly reality. Deciding to voice a question she'd always had, Emma asked, "Do you have a first name? I mean, I know your fairytale persona does, but does your cursed self have one? Or are you like Mr. Gold?"

Whale opened his mouth to explain but lost his ability to speak as he saw two dark eyes outside, gleaming in the moonlight, giving him a death glare.

Emma noticed his sudden distraction and turned around to see what could render the suave man speechless. At the sight, she groaned, knowing this would not end well.

Standing outside the diner door was none other than Ruby in all of her wolf form glory. And she did not seem too happy about what she was seeing. Hackles raised, Ruby snarled and charged through the glass, not caring about the exploding shards, only focusing on the man stupid enough to try and date someone else.

Dr. Whale looked genuinely terrified, not knowing how in control Ruby would be. He absentmindedly hoped that he wouldn't have to go to Rumplestiltskin to have another limb reattached.

Thankfully for him, Granny came rushing over, yelling out, "Down, Ruby! Bad girl!" She then promptly swatted the wolf on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.

It seemed to knock some sense, or at least self-awareness, back into Red, as she cowered down into submission. Shaking her head, she carefully bit the leg of Dr. Whale's pants and dragged him out of his chair, forcing him to come outside with her, him complaining the entire time.

During all of this, Emma had been observing from her chair in a state of shock. Countless odd things had happened to her throughout her life; seeing a wolf drag her boyfriend out a diner may have just become one of the weirdest.

Granny rested a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Well, at least I didn't have to drag out my crossbow to get that boy to finally see some sense." Coming back to reality, she asked Emma, "Do you still want your order?"

"Might as well. Though I guess I'll have to pay, now that my date got dragged away."

Granny left and quickly returned with the food. "You might as well drink Whale's scotch. You'll be needing it, and I think I might need one, too."

Deciding to enjoy her unexpected dateless-ness, Emma tucked into her hamburger and pondered on how strange her life was and what strange things were yet to come.

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**A/N: I seriously love Whale (not with Emma, just in general – and Frankenwolf is just the cutest thing ever). He is my favorite scuzzy dude! The single carnation thing was from that Storybrooke dating service special feature from last year.**

**So, was the rustling in the bushes just Ruby following them, or is there something more sinister going on? I'd love to hear what you think!**


	6. 6 - Ships Ahoy!

**A/N: *Ducks head in shame* I am a horrible person, I know. Feel free to throw digital rocks at me, I deserve it. I did actually have an outline a while ago, but I had parts listed as "witty banter," and I couldn't come up with any. Oops!**

**Anyway, this chapter goes out to kendra2608 because I know she's been looking forward to this one. Figured I'd satisfy both requests in one chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

As soon as Emma finished her meal, she left the diner, careful to avoid the broken glass littering the ground. She briefly considered spending her leftover time trying to repair the door with magic, but the idea quickly died when she noticed something definitely not normal across the street. A small ball of light floated in the air, beckoning her closer.

Emma crossed the road and hesitantly reached out and grabbed the curious object; it was actually a square of paper. Looking more closely at it, she read the message:

"Now that that disaster is over with, you might wish to head down to the docks. Trust me, and don't be late. X"

The ever-familiar sense of foreboding filled Emma again. A date with a (reasonably) normal mortal she could handle. It was the more "magical" variety of people that she didn't really care to deal with. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and set off once more for the shore.

Unsure of precisely where to go, Emma followed the ominous sound of steel against steel. It sounded similar to the scraping of knives being sharpened. Preparing herself for some sort of Bluebeard-esque sadist, Emma practically groaned when she saw Captain Hook casually reclining against some crates, sharpening his hook with a file.

Hook didn't even glance at her, simply stating, "I'm surprised at you, Swan; you don't even have your gun on me yet. Don't you know it's dangerous to meet mysterious strangers in the dead of night?" He finally looked up and raised one eyebrow at her.

"I hardly think you qualify as a threat. I've bested you quite a few times now." Emma shot him a smug look.

Hook rolled his eyes. "I may not be a prince, but perhaps I am too much of gentleman and let you win our battles? Have you ever thought about that?"

Emma scoffed. "Oh, please. You don't have a shred of decency in you."

"Shall we test that theory? Come, let us have a little swordplay on my ship; don't want to draw too much attention, do we?"

Emma carefully followed Hook aboard his invisible ship. Her sense of self-preservation warred with her desire to kick Hook's butt yet again, and she gave in to doing one of her favorite hobbies.

Leaving Emma on the deck, Hook quickly returned with two swords. As soon as the sword was in her hand, he attacked, swinging down hard. Emma leapt backwards, barely avoiding the blade. Swearing under her breath, she parried his next blow and returned with a similarly fierce strike.

The brutal attacking continued for a few minutes, with both of them running around the deck, as Emma really did not know how to properly swordfight. Panting, Emma called for a timeout. Hook readily consented; he didn't want to wear her out too early in the date, after all. Then he wouldn't get to have any fun.

After recovering a decent amount of oxygen, Emma asked Hook, "So, what's the prize in this contest? I mean, I need some kind of motivation to risk your carelessness with a sword cutting of one of my hands – no offence."

Hook thought for a moment. "How about this: if you win, I'll let you out of the rest of our date. If I win, you have to change back into that delightful little number you were wearing with Rumplestiltskin. After all, it's only fair that if you dress up for the crocodile then you look your best for me, too."

Emma, of course, was horrified by the thought of the Jessica Rabbit dress, and even more so at the thought that Hook had seen her in it. "Have you been spying on me? You have some serious issues." She paused. "However, I will agree to your terms. I'd love to see how you are going to get me into that dress, seeing as I burned it." She smirked at the memory.

"Oh, I have my ways. You'll just have to wait and see, love. Now, let's continue." And without further ado, Hook attacked.

This time, Hook was more graceful in his movements, wanting Emma to see how much he had let her win that time by the portal. Seriously, he would have had to reevaluate his entire life if that had truly been a display of his skills; no self-respecting pirate would ever be defeated by a lass with no experience, _ever_.

So, after several more minute of very _Pirates of the Caribbean_-ish fighting, Hook easily knocked the sword from Emma's grip and held his own to her throat. "Do you surrender, Swan?"

Grimacing, Emma let out a resentful "Yes." Satisfied, Hook removed the blade and tossed it aside. He told her to wait there and dashed into his cabin. The mischievous glint in his eye upon his return did not bode well for her.

Hook held out the retrieved object in his hand. "You know what this is, I presume?"

Emma glanced at it and nodded. It was a fairy wand.

"You see, while you were off dallying with the crocodile, _I _was breaking into his back room, taking something I thought might come in handy. Turns out, I was right. It would break my heart to think that only Rumplestiltskin would get to see you in that delicious red dress, so, in advance," he leaned towards her and conspiratorially whispered, "you're welcome."

With a flick of the wand, Emma felt her outfit transform itself into the Abomination, as she would call it. On the bright side, the paint that had been stuck to her face and hair seemed to disappear, too, so she wouldn't complain about that side effect. She ignored Hook rakishly looking her up and down.

"My, my, aren't you a sight? Well, no time to waste. Let's have a toast." Hook pulled out two bottle of rum from one of his many hidden, on-deck rum storage compartments. Handing her one, he tapped his own to it and said, "To the many wonders of the world, of which you in that dress is one. Cheers."

Emma took a swig from her bottle and relished the burn of the alcohol down her throat. The only way she could see herself surviving this date was to get smashingly drunk, and Hook seemed more than willing to oblige.

"So, how much more of this stuff have you got? We have a bit less than half an hour to go, and I intend to get very drunk."

Hook gave her his signature grin (eyebrow waggle included) and replied lowly, "I have as much as you can take and then some."

As per usual, Emma brushed off his innuendo. It would take more alcohol than that for her to actually feel giddy at his insinuations… or maybe she was just fooling herself in regards to her feelings about Hook; she just didn't know and didn't feel like thinking about it just now (or ever). She took her bottle and swung herself up on the railing on the side of the ship that faced the open water. Sighing, she took another drink and hoped that Hook wouldn't be foolish enough to push her overboard. The captain soon joined her, setting a few more bottles of rum between them.

The silence between them was slightly odd as Emma had never been around a silent Hook, but before it could become too awkward, Hook suddenly asked, "Would you like to hear a story?"

Casting a sideways glance at him, Emma replied, "I don't know; does it involve you charming the skirts off any woman who crosses your path?"

Hook chuckled. "That wasn't what I had in mind, but if that's what you want, I'd be happy to oblige. No, I meant a story of my adventures. I've been around for several hundred years; I'm sure my life has been much more exciting than yours."

Emma bristled at the barb but let it slide. "Fine. Regale me with your _fascinating _life story."

"Well, I suppose I could tell you about vicious yet highly amusing battle between the fairies and mermaids in Neverland…"

And so, Hook spend the next twenty minutes telling his tales while Emma became increasingly drunk, laughing loudly at the stories and cozying up to Hook until her head began to droop against his shoulder. Hook, as much as he loved the position, couldn't resist doing the obvious. He made a move to wrap his arm around her but instead pushed her into the water.

Emma snapped back to attention as soon as she felt her center of gravity shift, but it was too late. The first thing she heard as she surfaced was the antagonizing sound of Hook's roars of laughter. She treaded the water as she tried to figure a way out of this.

A rope hit the water next to her. Looking up, she saw Hook leaning over the rail, still laughing at her. "Come on, Swan, climb up the rope. I don't like to think of all the beasties swimming in that water with you when you're looking so… appetizing."

Since Emma is Emma, she stubbornly refused to take hold of the rope. Instead, she shouted up to Hook, "I hope your happy, 'cause this is me leaving our date." With that, she located the direction of the shore and swam for it, attempting to block out the continuing sounds of Hook's laughs. She reached the beach quickly and groaned at how the wet dress clung to her, making her quite thankful that Hook couldn't see her like this. Grumbling, Emma made her way along the beach before the combination of her inebriation and lack of sleep threatened to overwhelm her.

Emma sat down on the sand and wrung out the bottom of her dress. The water and sand were going to destroy the material, and she couldn't have been happier. Giving up, she laid down and involuntarily closed her eyes. If any more men wanted to date her tonight, they'd have to wake her up first, she decided with a smile. She could not imagine anyone being foolish enough to try something like that.

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**A/N: For being a pirate, the show doesn't make Hook a very competent fighter, so I made him more like Westley (or the Dread Pirate Roberts, if you prefer hehe).**

**On another note, if anyone has suggestions/requests for future dates, it would really help. Thanks! **


	7. 7 - Now, Why Do Witches Burn?

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your suggestions! You guys gave me so many 'light bulb' moments that I'm pretty sure that I know how I'm going to end this story, which has me pretty pumped (don't worry, we still have a few chapters to go before we get there!).**

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Emma had been having a lovely dream about sipping margaritas on a cruise ship when she felt sand hit her face and heard an Irish lilt drawing her from her unconscious state. Grumbling, she dragged her brain to reality, whimpering slightly as the fake warmth of the dream faded. She looked up to get a glimpse of her first murder victim and growled at the sight of Graham's bemused smile.

"Rise and shine, love!" His cheerfulness was exceedingly grating, so she threw a fistful of sand at his face.

"Now _that _was uncalled for." Graham scolded, mostly unruffled by her reaction. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. After all, he was already dead; it wasn't like her death glare could actually do anything to him.

Emma shoved him away. "What do you want now? Every time you show up, my life just gets worse."

Graham ignored the barb. "I'm here to check up on you. Did these past few dates meet your requirements for confidence?" He grinned at her scowl.

"When I said that I wanted someone with confidence, I meant someone who was also sane. Do you really think someone as attached to reality as me would ever end up with a psycho?"

"Well, they do say that opposites attract and all that, but I suppose I could change it up."

Emma became suspicious of his change of attitude. "Yeah, because that worked so well the last time. I don't know what you're getting out of this, but I want out."

Graham sighed. He really should have been used to her stubbornness by now, but the more of a fight she put up, the more he wanted to mess with her. Suddenly, an idea sparked, and he smiled slowly. "Sadly for you, it doesn't work that way; you have to follow the rules. But, since I'm such a nice guy, I'll give you back your normal clothes and sober you up a bit if you actually give your next date a chance."

The offer was tempting, and both of them knew it. They stared each other down until Emma finally relented. "Fine, fine! I give up! I will go on the next date and try to give him the respect he deserves."

"Wise decision. Have fun!" Graham waved his arm toward her, and Emma was engulfed in a golden light. She looked down at herself as the red fabric slowly morphed into her blue jacket and jeans. The pounding in her head also seemed to recede. Reveling in her sudden comfort, Emma looked back up, but she was no longer on the beach. Instead, she was in the children's park, the one with the hazardous-looking, spiky playground that did not even have swings. So, overall, not a very nice park whatsoever.

Emma did not have long to wonder why she was there before she heard a greeting called out in a familiar Italian accent. Turning around, she saw Marco walking toward her, swinging hands with little Pinocchio.

Emma groaned internally as she waved at the approaching twosome. She didn't know which would be worse: going on a date with Marco (who had to be old enough to be her grandfather) or playing with Pinocchio (whom she still could hardly accept as being a child version of August).

Pinocchio broke away from Marco and ran toward the playground. Marco just smiled fondly at him then turned to Emma. "He's such a good boy. I don't know what I would do without him." He sighed. "Well, I guess I'll be off, then." He turned to leave.

"Hey, wait!" Emma grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "Are you really just going to leave your ten-year-old son here on a date? Wouldn't that make me a pedophile or something?"

Marco chuckled, much to Emma's chagrin. "If we were back in our land, his age would not matter. Besides, I trust you to keep him safe." With that, he was off again.

Emma just gaped at his retreating form. How was she supposed to deal with this? She didn't know anything about playing with other people's kids, especially kids that used to be hot guys in leather jackets. Mentally yelling at Graham for being the worst dating service on the face of the planet, she went to go find Pinocchio.

The boy himself was sitting at the top of the slide, working up the nerve to slide down. He had never been good at listening to the Blue Fairy's instructions about being brave, and this time was not any different. He gulped and looked around. Seeing that Emma was watching, he forced down his fear and let gravity take its hold. He reached the bottom and beamed up at her.

Emma smiled back at him sadly. Looking at his incredibly young face reminded her of the fact that she had lost yet another friend, and it made her want to retreat back into her loner self.

Pinocchio wasn't fooled by her smile; he recognized the look of sadness in Emma's eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to comfort her for whatever had caused her emotional shift. Emma nearly broke down, tears coming to her eyes as she returned the hug and kissed the top of his head. Too soon, she pulled away. Crouching down, she grabbed Pinocchio's shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

Failing to find what she was looking for, Emma quickly got up and started to walk away. Feeling Pinocchio's eyes on her back, she whirled around and was suddenly struck by an idea. "You know what, Pinocchio? I think this is the perfect opportunity to do something right, for once."

Emma closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel the warmth spreading throughout her body, felt the pull of something deep within herself. She held out her hand, knowing that Pinocchio would take it, out of curiosity if nothing else. The moment the pull began to give, she opened her eyes.

Pinocchio was more than a little concerned when his skin began to emit a golden glow, yelping in surprise. He wanted to pull away from Emma, but an inner voice urged him to wait, that everything would be all right. Mustering up every ounce of his courage, he allowed the magic to take its hold.

Emma watched in wonder as the little boy morphed back into the man she had so missed. August gasped as he looked around, his consciousness slowly settling back in. He pulled Emma into a hug, speechless at what she had done, and swung her around. He danced away and laughed, a great, big, I'm-so-happy-to-be-alive laugh. He grinned and stuttered out, "Thank you, Emma! You have no idea- I mean- just- thank you!" He laughed again.

Emma giggled and smiled at August's overwhelming joy. She was relieved that he seemed to actually have wanted to return to manhood. She had to know for sure, so she asked, "So, you're really okay with what I did to you?"

"Okay? I am beyond ecstatic! I am happier than Happy at happy hour! You really have no idea how thankful I am to not have to go through puberty again! I mean, if Neal didn't want to go back to fourteen, why would anyone think that I'd be okay with being a child again? I wouldn't be me if I didn't have my experiences of this world, no matter how awful they were." He grinned and swung Emma around again.

"I'm just glad you're all right. I wasn't sure if you'd want your old life back."

"Emma, I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it: thank you. Besides, now I actually look old enough to be Marco's son instead of a grandson. But if you are feeling bad, you could always magic my motorbike back." He winked at her.

Emma rolled her eyes, but she figured this was kind of like a birthday, so, summoning that burning light, she stretched out her hand, and August's motorcycle materialized on the side of the road.

August gasped in shock. He had been joking; he had not really expected her to be able to do that.

"What, transforming you into an adult isn't a surprise, but summoning a bike, that's what has you shocked?"

"I thought the aging thing might have been your curse-breaking powers or even a fluke; _this _is proof that you really _can _use magic!"

Emma laughed at his flabbergasted expression. "Well, are you going to take me on a ride or what?"

August recovered and flashed her another grin. "Oh, you're on." He strapped on his helmet while she put on hers. He started the engine, and they were off. They zoomed around Storybrooke's limited countryside, just enjoying each other's presence and the feel of the wind whipping past. The sensation came to an end, though, when they completed their loop and reached the park again.

Getting off the bike, Emma suddenly panicked when she saw Marco leaning against a tree, glaring at her. She heard August swear under his breath then call out, "Hey, Dad."

Marco furiously stomped over to them, shouting, "What did you do!? Is this how you take care of children, turning them into adults behind their parents' backs!? You had better fix this, or I'll get the Blue Fairy to fix _you_!"

August tried to come to the rescue. "Wait, just stop, Dad. It's all right; I _wanted _to be an adult again. I know you don't like that you missed out on most of my childhood, but that's the price you paid to keep me safe. Don't take this out on Emma," he pleaded.

Glancing between the two of them, Marco let out what were probably some pretty terrible curse words in a foreign language and grabbed August by the arm, tears streaming down his face. August cast an apologetic glance at Emma and allowed his father to lead him away.

Emma leaned back against the bike, wondering whether doing the right thing for August had been worth the cost. Before she could come to a conclusion, Graham popped into existence right in front of her.

"Good job, Emma. I set you up on the least harmful date ever, and you go and try out your magic on him." He smirked at her glower. Oh, how enjoyed teasing her, taunting her into actually living her life. It was hard for him, being dead and seeing someone so alive just wasting her time.

"Well, I think I did right by him. He should never had had to lose his identity like that."

"I know, and I secretly think you're right. But I don't think Marco will see it that way." He pulled Emma away from the bike and looked her over. "I have one last date for you, and don't worry; it's not with Marco. I'm not that mean." Emma glared at him again. "I don't think I could even find any more men for you; you're too picky, and they're intimidated by you. Don't know why _that'd_ be." Double-death glare at the sarcasm.

Graham flicked his wrist, and a black bag appeared in his hands. He handed it to Emma. "Here, take this with you. Just walk down that path in the woods. You'll know when you're there. Enjoy your last one!"

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but Graham was gone in a flash. She tried to open the bag (about the size of a shopping bag and incredibly heavy), but could not. A note appeared on the zipper, reading, "Not until it's time". She wanted to complain, but she was more concerned about the fact that her night was coming to a close. Sure, she was excited for the dates from hell to be over with, but she did not want to have to make a decision on a love interest. So far, all of the men had been rather disappointing, and Emma hated having to commit herself to just one. She pondered her upcoming choice as she walked down the dark and creepy path into the unknown.

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**A/N: I think this show might seriously be trying to murder all of the fans' most beloved Emma ships, especially now that WoodenSwan is kinda pedophile-ish. Stupid writers, destroying all of our eye candy!**

**Did you like the bittersweet moment between Emma and Pinocchio? I know, it isn't really in tone with the rest of the story – it got much more emotional than I intended – but I could picture it so clearly in my head, and I just had to do it. Besides, August isn't really a comic relief character, anyway.**


	8. 8 - Sticky Situations

**A/N: I am so, **_**so **_**sorry about how long it has taken me to do this chapter. I put it down to this semester being a complete drain on my very tired brain and the fact that this last date is one I knew that I had to do, but I have absolutely no attachment to this character. I kinda wish he would just fall in a pit, get eaten by scarab beetles, fly into a black hole, **_**insert your favorite Final Destination-type death here**_**, but I digress. I didn't want to give you guys a chapter of character bashing, and I don't have a good grip on this character, so here goes my (most likely) bizarre take on Emma's final date.**

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The dark and creepy path seemed to stretch on forever. Not that Emma was scared of the dark – she was much too macho for that – but she was starting to worry about where she was actually going. Sick of the spookiness, Emma held her hand out in front of herself and attempted to conjure a fireball. A light flickered in and out of existence, causing her to groan in frustration. Her magic, it seemed, only worked when it wanted to.

Finally, after another good seven minutes of walking, the trail came to an end. Looking around, Emma saw a campfire pit and a picnic table. And on that table sat the one and only Neal, staring a hole into the ground.

"Hey," Emma weakly called out to him. Neal glanced up and half-smiled. "Hey yourself."

Emma walked over to him and sat down. "So… how's life?" She grimaced at her own lameness.

Neal just half-smiled again. "Good, good. Everything's good. Except, you know, that we're trapped in the middle of the woods by your ghost ex-boyfriend because he wants you to hook up with a new boyfriend. You sure do know how to pick 'em."

Emma wondered if he realized that he had just insulted himself, too. Trying to move the conversation onto a happier subject, she said, "Well, we're here now, so why don't we start a fire before we freeze to death. Do you know how to start a campfire?"

Neal just looked at her, so Emma took that as a "no". Sighing, she got up and tried to summon another fireball. Surprisingly, the flame did appear, and she flung it at the logs in the pit. She grinned – no, really, there was a legit smile – at her success. Her euphoria was short-lived, however, as Neal let out a yelp.

"Emma! What do you think you are doing!? You can't use magic; it's dangerous and ruins lives! Get away from me!" He leapt away from her, disgusted at her display.

"Relax, Neal. It's just a little fire. It's not like I was going to burn down the forest. Besides, I didn't see you doing anything to help." She grabbed the bag Graham gave her, and it finally opened. Inside were several cases of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolates.

Neal saw the contents and felt an inner war of hatred of magic and love of s'mores. As he watched Emma stick her marshmallow into the flames, turning a lovely, crispy brown, Neal broke and speared four marshmallows on a stick, putting them in the very center of the flames. His eyes gleamed manically as he pulled them out and ate them like corn on the cob.

Emma ate her s'more distractedly as she watched Neal's bizarre behavior. Shuddering at his weirdness, she looked at the supplies again and realized that the graham crackers were Graham Crackers™, with a picture of Graham winking at her. She wondered if he had known that Neal would have such a bizarre reaction to s'mores.

While Emma was contemplating, Neal was pigging out on marshmallows and chocolate, shoving his face with the sweets that never seemed to run out. He was so distracted that he did not even notice the creeping figure crossing the edge of the clearing. A sharp smack across the back of his head quickly brought him to attention.

"Ow! What was that for?" Glancing back, the color drained from his face as he looked up at his father, a menacing scowl instilling fear in his very soul.

"What, my dear boy, do you think you are doing?" Mr. Gold asked in a low, angry voice.

Neal looked away and sheepishly said, "I was… eating… s'mores."

Mr. Gold tsked and yanked Neal up by the collar. "Well, the next time you feel the need to gorge yourself on sticky sweetness, I'll be sure to send you to the Mallow Marsh in Wonderland. Now, go say goodbye to Emma. We're going home."

Neal had enough of a sense of self-preservation to not put up a fuss. He walked over to Emma, trying to ignore her stifling her laughter at his expense. "Bye, Emma. Please don't make out with any other guys while I'm away 'cuz I might decide that I love you again."

Emma just gaped at him as he and Mr. Gold disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. She hated being told what to do; maybe she would just kiss the next guy she saw just to spite him. She quickly nixed the thought because she knew that Graham would probably coming for her soon, and it would be awkward to kiss ghost.

She sat by the fire to make one last s'more. The decision in front of her was not an easy one. Sure, plenty of the men had been attractive, but none had really sparked her interest. Maybe she needed a good guy, one with actual morals, but enough of a bad boy in him to keep her enthralled, maybe someone like Robin Hood. She shook off the thought. She also needed someone who was single.

Finishing her treat, Emma got up and called out for Graham. "Hey, Graham! Can we get this over with?"

As if by magic (which it obviously was), Graham appeared before her. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you'd even be able to hold onto a man once you've picked him. You're doing a good job of chasing them away."

"It's not my fault that Gold came and took Neal away! Shouldn't you have prevented something like that?"

"Eh, the Dark One is the most powerful being in all the realm. I prefer to stay out of his way." Graham snatched up a marshmallow and started toasting it. "Now, are you ready to make your choice?"

Emma sighed. "I don't think I'll ever be ready, so we might as well get this over with and move on with our lives."

Graham slid the marshmallow onto a cracker and gave it to Emma since he was a ghost and, well, could not actually eat. He looked away from the s'more reluctantly.

"Alright then. The next step is not simply to pick." He ignored Emma muttering, "Of course not," under her breath. "As soon as you're sure you're ready, just take my hand, and I'll bring you to the showdown."

"Wait, showdown? I'm going to have to _fight _for a love interest? I never agreed to that!" Emma backed away, not wanting any part of this insanity.

"Duh, Emma. Nobody cares about an easy love story. You have to prove your love so that the Powers That Be know that you're not just faking this commitment."

Emma stared at him in horror. "But I _don't love_ any of these guys! How am I supposed to fight for one?"

Graham crossed his arms in exasperation. "Hey, you're from a world where most people fall in love within hours of meeting each other. You'd better step it up if you plan on surviving out here."

Emma decided that she had had enough. She turned to run away, but Graham predicted her move and grabbed her hand before she could even move step. Emma felt the magic take hold and felt the panic roiling within her. This could not end well.

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**A/N: I felt bad for Graham even as I was writing that bit about eating the s'more, but I guess that's his punishment for hassling Emma. And I really am sorry for how weird my Neal is. He just doesn't have any cool quirks like most of the rest of the guys do. To me, Neal is just a prat. I started writing this chapter before this season even began, but after tonight's episode, I really just want to smack him.**

**Side note: Is anyone else as annoyed as me that the preview for next week totally spoiled something that huge? That is something that I'd rather not know about ahead of time so that I can geek out when it actually happens.**


	9. Your Choice

I forgot to include this bit. I have a poll on my profile so that you guys can vote for your favorite dude. I'm thinking of doing 3 possible endings (like _Clue _hehe). So, if you would be ever so kind, you can vote there or just leave a comment/PM with your choice. Come on, guys! Emma needs a little help, here!


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